


How to Care for Your Demon

by meiastar



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Aziraphale disagrees with God (Good Omens), Aziraphale is still a little selfish (Good Omens), Blow Jobs, Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Bratty bottom Crowley (Good Omens), But Crowley loves him anyway (Good Omens), Crowley Has Long Hair (Good Omens), Crowley is hypervigilant (Good Omens), Crowley wears a dress (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, Mutual adoration, Riding Crops, Rimming, Service Top, Switching, Thirsty Aziraphale (Good Omens), Top Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-09-07 10:56:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20308333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meiastar/pseuds/meiastar
Summary: Crowley has an idea.  Aziraphale runs with it.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> So I haven't written anything in like ten years but these two are absolutely slaying me. I couldn't get the idea out of my head, so here it is. Not beta'd or anything, and I'm a little rusty, but I hope you enjoy!

Crowley miracled some shackles and chains to the lintel above the doorway to his bedroom, and stood back to consider them appreciatively. They went well here. Stark grey walls, minimalist furniture, and iron shackles dangling, unforgiving and ancient-looking. He smirked. “That will do,” he murmured.

Later that evening he invited Aziraphale to share a bottle of red, and loose and flushed, he showed them to his angel, explaining their intended purpose.

Aziraphale’s eyes widened while Crowley studied his reaction. His expression fleeted from confusion, to concern, to fascination. Then Crowley could see the moment he reeled it back in, carefully, and shifted his gaze to Crowley. “My dear… are you quite sure you want me to…” 

Crowley’s eyes were inscrutable beneath his sunglasses, but his lips curved into a lopsided smirk. He loved seeing his angel discomfited, and he had to turn the corners of his mouth down to keep from breaking into a grin. He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head instead of nodding. He hoped to hell that the hammering of his heart was not obvious. His hands were stuffed in his tight little pockets to keep the trembling to himself. He focused on keeping his body language loose and nonchalant as he continued studying Aziraphale’s face for any sign of disgust or judgment.

Aziraphale’s breathing had stalled for a moment, then his chest billowed as he caught his breath in long, slow inhalations. He actually rested a hand on his chest while he swallowed, a flush creeping steadily upwards from his neckline. “My dear,” he murmured quietly, reaching for the nearest shackle and turning it over in his hand. He frowned. “This might actually hurt you! There’s no give at all!” 

Something loosened in Crowley’s chest and he let loose a chuckle on an escaped breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Of course that would be his reaction. Concern for his corporeal safety. He felt warmth bloom within him as Aziraphale stepped closer, turned fully toward him, gazing earnestly up at his face. His voice came out rough, and he coughed into a fist. “That’s… that’s the general idea, yes.”

“Oh my.” Aziraphale’s shoulders loosened and set, his gaze sliding sideways toward the doorway as his lips pursed. His face had become a pretty shade of pink, and he blinked a few times, rather becomingly, Crowley thought. His own anxiety had smoothed out; he felt it escaping from his body through his legs and out through the floor, like cold water becoming mist. He stopped fighting with the curve of his lips and let himself relax into openness and unselfconsciousness, leaving him to sink into the beauty and radiance coming from his angel’s face. His neck curved toward him involuntarily, his shoulders dropping, his arms hanging loosely from the hands still crammed into his pockets. Aziraphale turned back to him suddenly, with a bright smile and curiosity sparkling in his eyes. Crowley almost melted into a puddle on the spot. He was amazed at how helpless he felt when those eyes were turned on him, sometimes. It was a wonder that he could maintain any facade of composure. At all. Ever. 

Suddenly Aziraphale plucked the glasses off his face and stepped even closer, his eyes graver now as he studied him with intensity. Crowley stopped breathing, feeling vulnerable and soft, as if his whole existence was held in Aziraphale’s gaze. He swayed a bit, his knees bending unconsciously to bring him a little closer to Aziraphale’s height. He could not look away, nor did he want to. Tenderness filled his eyes as Aziraphale’s hand reached up to brush a thumb along his cheekbone. He took a breath then, through his nose, a little noisily. The thumb brushed again, and his eyes closed. He hummed quietly, the sound surprising him.

Aziraphale couldn’t resist kissing him when he was like this, so he did, very gently. He let his fingers stroke down Crowley’s neck and waited for his eyes to slit open again. “I have to admit I am intrigued,” he said, still smiling. Then he turned back to the doorway, and Crowley turned too, letting his hands drop out of his pockets. “I… think I understand the why of it…” he glanced back to Crowley, but his body language had changed, had grown more furtive, and he avoided raising his gaze to meet his. Crowley suddenly felt concerned, and protective. He straightened a bit and turned toward him, as if he was prepared to do battle with whatever emotion had diminished his angel in the slightest. Aziraphale flushed even more deeply and he laughed a little. “I… think I may even wish to try it myself, sometime…” he let the words rush out of him conversationally, a little too quickly. “Not with those, of course,” he qualified, laughing, gesturing erratically. “With- with- maybe something softer… on a- on a bed…” He laughed at himself and actually fanned his face with his hand for a heartbeat. “You know! Must be comfortable and all that.”

Crowley had been staring at him in amazement which was quickly turning to adoration. While Aziraphale blushed and stammered, Crowley’s smile became open and wide. Simultaneous urges to both tease and comfort rose up within him and he reached out for his angel’s fidgeting hands and held them tightly, laughing. Aziraphale looked at him sidelong, still blushing, looking for all the world like a boy who had been caught stealing biscuits and knew he was too precious to be punished for it. Crowley shook his head and drew him into his chest, still laughing. “Oh, angel, you are absolutely unbelievable. Positively degenerate, you are.”

“Oh, shut up,” Aziraphale said without heat, hugging himself to Crowley’s chest.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale wants to try first.

“I want you to find some nice silk neckties and tie me to my bedposts,” Aziraphale said conversationally over lunch the next day, and took a sip of tea.

Crowley almost dropped his cup into its saucer, then frowned. “You don’t have any bedposts.”

“I will by tonight.” Aziraphale slid his eyes to Crowley’s over the rim of his cup, and crinkled slightly in amusement as Crowley suddenly seemed to not know what to do with his hands, or his limbs, or his face.

Crowley coughed and tried to recover by taking a sip of tea. He noticed his hand was trembling. “Oh, em. All right.” He set his cup down and stretched his legs out, crossing them at the ankle, suddenly the picture of perfect calm and indifference. Aziraphale wasn’t fooled for a moment. He set his cup down and leaned forward. 

“Tonight, then?” He smiled.

“Oh, sure.” A fluid shrug. “I don’t think I’ve got anything else on.”

“Wonderful.” Aziraphale sat back and smiled in satisfaction. He raised a champagne flute toward his lover, who sat up, raised his brows, and lifted his for a clink.

After a sip, Crowley frowned and eyed Aziraphale out of the corner of his eye. “It was my idea though. Shouldn’t I get to go first?”

“Oh, undoubtedly. But it’s just that this is more your area than mine, and I want to try it first so I know what to do.” He laughed, then primly dabbed his lips with a napkin. “We can’t have me making a hash of things right off, can we?”

“I don’t think that you _could_…”

“I’ve been doing some research.”

“Of course you have.”

“And I’ve determined that we need what is known as a ‘safe word.’ Do be thinking about that.”

Crowley blinked, then downed his entire flute of champagne in one go, grimacing as the bubbles burned the back of his throat. He looked at the empty glass critically. “Where did this come from anyway? I thought we were drinking tea.”

“Well, we can’t very well toast with our teacups, can we, dear?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crowley kept his feelings to himself, but he had to admit to a bit of skepticism as to whether his beloved angel would enjoy being tied up… or was the skepticism more of a doubt that he would be capable of dominating him? But they had exchanged safewords (His was Bentley. Aziraphale’s was simply, “books.”) and he had to be content with the fact that they had trusted each other with their lives for thousands of years. Comparatively, this was nothing. _This is everything_, his thoughts told him unhelpfully. He rolled his eyes. _Overdramatic, much?_

After dinner they sipped wine together on the couch, Crowley letting his eyes burn over Aziraphale’s body while he chatted happily. He had removed his glasses, and conversation faltered when they met eyes. Aziraphale swallowed convulsively and suddenly felt light-headed. Crowley looked as if he might eat him right up. He smiled nervously and noticed with dismay that he was starting to sweat.

Then Crowley was actually crawling, catlike, toward him on the sofa, unfolding his long limbs elegantly in his lap, straddling him. Aziraphale gazed up at him, heavy-lidded, breathing through parted lips. Crowley could feel the heavy rise and fall of his chest between his knees, his hands caressing the small of his back. He ran a hand through pale curls, and Aziraphale’s eyes closed with pleasure. 

“Look at me, angel.” He watched his angel’s eyes blink open again, and smiled down at him lopsidedly, his eyes hard and glittering. 

“Yes,” Aziraphale whispered, a touch of awe in his voice. 

“Remove my shirt.” 

Reverently, his hands lit on Crowley’s buttons, carefully opening them one by one, mesmerized by the black silk parting to reveal creamy skin and a dusting of hair. Tenderly, he leaned forward to kiss the center, but found his head was held back, Crowley’s fist gentle and firm in his hair. He looked up and Crowley shook his head slowly, still smiling crookedly. Chastened, he dropped his hands to Crowley’s waist and watched hungrily as he removed the rest of the shirt and dropped it on the floor. 

Crowley rose to his knees, which were on either side of Aziraphale's hips, and pressed his crotch into his lover’s chest, allowing him to feel his hardness and heat. A small sound caught in the back of Aziraphale’s throat, and Crowley caught his wrists as they automatically rose to cup his ass. He pulled back, standing, pulling the other to his feet as well. “Come on,” he murmured, tugging him toward the bedroom. Aziraphale followed, only stumbling a little.

Once inside, Crowley released Aziraphale and turned to face him, leaning against the door jamb with his hip cocked and his arms crossed. “Your turn.” He gestured toward him. 

“Oh...yes? My shirt?” Aziraphale began untying his bowtie and Crowley leaned toward him.

“_All of it._”

Aziraphale returned a little smirk as if to show he was in on the joke, and focused on removing all of his clothes. It took a little longer than usual, as Crowley’s gaze raking over him caused him to go all ham-handed and clumsy. “There!” he declared when the last remnant was divested, rubbing his fingers together nervously and smiling shyly.

Crowley’s heart turned over to see him so awkward, all for him. He tried to keep his pleasure from showing on his face. He took a breath and stood away from the door. “Right. I want you on your back.” 

Aziraphale took a breath and looked toward his bed, which had indeed sprouted tall bedposts since the last time Crowley had seen it. He slid onto his back, feeling a little bit chilled. Crowley seemed to notice, for he frowned slightly and glanced over his shoulder, igniting a nice cozy fire in the fireplace behind him. 

“All right, angel.” Crowley clambered onto the bed, straddling Aziraphale’s hips again, and produced a couple of silk scarves from nowhere. He planted a hand beside his angel’s face and leaned in closely to gaze into his eyes. “You’re sure?” 

“Oh, yes,” he breathed ardently, his gaze drifting to Crowley’s lips.

“You remember your word.”

Aziraphale nodded, swallowing.

Crowley’s pupils dilated, and his tongue darted out to lick his lips. Aziraphale surged up to kiss him, but he leaned up and began tying his right hand, then his left. Soon his angel was laying helpless between his thighs, his body rosy and smooth, his cock thick and full. Aziraphale tugged on his restraints a little, then turned his entire attention to Crowley, eyes wide and blown.

“What do you want, angel?” 

“I want- I want to touch you. Kiss you,” he breathed.

Crowley allowed a grin as wicked as sin to spread across his features. “Not until I say.” 

“I want to worship you.” 

Crowley’s hands froze for a second as they moved toward his fly, but he recovered quickly. He hoped. “I’ll allow it.” His voice shook a little. His fingers slowly dipped into his tight black pants and he stroked himself once. Aziraphale’s eyes were glued to his fingers, his lips parted as his breathing quickened. Crowley could feel Aziraphale hardening beneath him, nudging his bottom. He rose to his knees and unzipped his fly, slowly, as Aziraphale stared avidly, holding his breath. 

“Do you want to see me?”

“Yes, Crowley, my gorgeous darling,” he gasped. “Please please show me.” 

Crowley’s cock twitched at that, and he couldn’t help a small smile. He stood beside the bed and removed the rest of his clothing, slowly, while Aziraphale stared, and…

“Angel, are you drooling?” 

Aziraphale swallowed, but nodded shamelessly, his eyes never leaving his lover’s body. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured seriously as Crowley had begun crawling back onto the bed. Crowley froze again, and their eyes locked. There was no teasing, no hyperbole. Aziraphale’s head tilted to the side, his eyebrows raised in a yearning expression. “My darling boy.” 

“Oh,” Crowley breathed. His cock was fully hard now, and aching. Aziraphale’s was standing straight and proud from his body as well, and he carefully avoided touching it as he knelt beside him on the bed. “No, I don’t know what I do to you. Tell me.” He ran his fingers feather lightly over Azriaphale’s skin, watching his nipples harden, watching gooseflesh rippling down legs and arms. 

“You…” Crowley leaned forward and laved a nipple with his tongue. Aziraphale gasped, his hips twitching up. “Youarethemostgorgeouscreature,” he breathed, and moaned as Crowley’s open mouth and tongue slithered across his chest to his other nipple. “You… you… oh fuck.” Crowley smiled in delight to hear the word fall from his angel’s lips, and let his mouth trail down to the soft skin of his stomach. “You… your skin. Your body. Your elegance, your sense of humor, your… OH!” Crowley had skipped around his cock and was suckling on the tender skin of his inner thigh. “You’re so beautiful, you are, my darling, my precious; you are my everything and I just want to eat you. Savor you. Like the best meal I’ve ever had…”

Crowley lifted his head and smiled up at him, then suddenly took his cock in deep, letting it nudge the back of his throat, and Aziraphale shouted and yanked hard at his restraints. He stroked his cock with his tongue, swirling it around the tip, releasing him wetly and climbing up his body until he was sitting on his chest. Aziraphale was staring at him with wide eyes, pulling against his restraints unconsciously and gasping with each breath. “I want you, please, Crowley, my dear. Please let me have you.”

Crowley slid forward and nudged Aziraphale’s lips with his cock, which was red and leaking. “This is what you want?”

“Oh yes, yes, I want it, please!”

“I’m going to fuck your mouth, angel,” he traced his fingers around his lips as Aziraphale groaned, his eyes already rolling back in his head. “If… if you need to safeword then just knock on the bedpost, all right?”

Aziraphale nodded, his eyes glazed, his head lifted and straining towards him. “Please just… oh, please…”

Crowley put his hand on Aziraphale’s head and eased his hips forward, teasing at first by dipping the tip past his lips and withdrawing again, smiling at the way Aziraphale’s lips and tongue tried to chase him. Then he sunk in, filling his mouth as his angel closed his eyes and moaned around his cock, slobbering and sucking, his own hips pumping into empty air, tears starting at the corners of his eyes and traveling down his cheeks. Crowley watched his face, full of wonder at the reverence and need he saw there, and started moving faster and faster. He felt Aziraphale try to nod. Pleasure spiked through him, pleasure at being pleasured and pleasure at being wanted. Perhaps Aziraphale was tied up, but it was Crowley who felt enslaved. 

“Oh god,” he moaned as his hips stuttered faster and faster, fucking his angel’s mouth. And then, with a mighty breath, he withdrew, sagging onto Aziraphale, who cried out raggedly in protest. He wasn't ready to finish yet. He devoured his mouth, licking into him, delighting in his answering moans. 

Crowley sat up again, gazing unfocused on the face of his beloved, reaching behind himself. Aziraphale suddenly realized that Crowley was opening himself for him. He bit his lower lip and whimpered, fidgeting beneath his sinewy thighs. 

“My darling, my darling,” he breathed, and closed his teeth on his bottom lip to distract himself from the pulsing desire that made his cock throb and ache. 

“My angel,” Crowley breathed, and lowered himself onto him, slowly, carefully, his forehead pinched in concentration, his breath gutted out of him. “Don’t you move.”

Aziraphale was moaning loudly, barely able to restrain himself from juddering up into Crowley’s slender body. “My dove. Oh my darling. Oh fffff-” 

Crowley’s head hung between his shoulders, getting used to the fullness, breathing, just breathing. 

“Please, my darling, I can’t-” Aziraphale was whining, almost crying. His bottom lip trembled, and Crowley’s cock twitched in response, desire suddenly overwhelming the discomfort. 

“Oh, god.” Crowley felt wrecked, his hips bucking involuntarily.

“Please, dear! I need to move! May I please?” 

Tears streamed down Aziraphale’s cheeks and Crowley finally nodded, eyes still screwed shut. “Slowly, yes, slowly…” 

“HHHHhhhnngggg,” said his angel, undulating his hips, pleasure crashing through him, his eyes open and glazed, unfocused, watching Crowley move, watching him throw his head back, watching the flush rise up his chest to his neck, the sheen of sweat making him glow. “You fucking gorgeous creature.”

Crowley moaned and readjusted his position so that he was hitting his prostate, and began fucking himself up and down on Aziraphale’s cock, his back arched and his breath coming in sharp tight grunts. 

Aziraphale gasped and keened. “Oh, I’m done for, I can’t-” And suddenly he was coming, his pelvis stuttering and grinding up into Crowley’s, the world gone white, and himself obliterated. 

He remembered to breathe and opened his eyes to see Crowley gazing at him dumbly, his bottom lip slack and his cock still unspent. Aziraphale gasped in offence. “Get that back in my mouth right now!” he snapped, and Crowley surged forward, both hands on the sides of his head, and pressed his cock in so hard that he gagged. Recovering quickly, Aziraphale moaned an “mm-hmm” of encouragement, sucking his cheeks tightly around his hardness, as Crowley pumped rapidly and came himself, filling Aziraphale’s mouth. His toes curled and his body convulsed as he wrung himself inside out. Aziraphale swallowed around his cock as if his thirst would never be sated, his eyes closed, his curls wet around his enraptured face.

Crowley slumped for a moment, and suddenly came to and pulled out of his lover’s mouth, slack and sated. “Oh, angel. Angel.” His fingers caressed his face, his eyebrows, his cheeks, his very wet chin and lips. 

Aziraphale gazed at him adoringly. “My darling boy. Would you mind- my hands, dear.”

“Oh! Right.” Crowley undid his knots quickly and placed soft kisses to the insides of his wrists as Aziraphale gazed up at him, sated and in love.

“Come here.” Crowley unfolded himself and pulled Aziraphale into his arms, burying his face in his neck. They held each other, gently rocking. 

Finally Crowley raised his head and gazed into his angel’s eyes. “All right, love?”

“Yes. I’m wonderful.”

Crowley smiled gently and rested his head on his chest. “Yes, you are.”


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally Crowley gets his turn.

They took a few days. As impatient as Crowley had been, he knew they both needed some down time, which they spent cuddled together on Aziraphale’s couch, simply being. Crowley would putter around his plants, without much energy for berating them. Aziraphale often had his nose in a book and a mug of cocoa by his side. And they kissed, a lot.

Presently, Crowley’s usual nervous energy began to spike through his system. He began fidgeting, spending more time pacing around than curled in his angel’s arms. Aziraphale watched him secretly, critically, over the top of his book. He watched Crowley stretch, his pale stomach visible between the layers of black clothing. He let his eyes wander appreciatively over his demon’s form. His mouth watered a little. Those slender limbs and boyish frame, belying an infinite intensity of emotions, an inner strength and purity of character, yes, goodness, unseen by anyone but him. There was a childlike ferocity to him, a feral attitude born of lifetimes full of disapproval. A calculated laissez-faire that pointed to an emotional exhaustion. Tired of trying. And yet, he yearned toward love. He still wanted to be accepted. 

Times like this, the enormity of trust placed in him staggered his heart. That this gorgeous creature, this lithe and angry demon, would be tamed for him, would loosen his prickly guard, would let him in ever, desired him. Was drawn to him like an orphan to a warm fire, and wanted to spend the rest of eternity with him. Especially after knowing him for six-thousand years. Especially. He didn’t think he had really earned this. He had hurt his demon enough by his own self-protection. He hoped that he could be a safe place, a real home for Crowley forever. 

“What. What’s wrong.” 

Startled out of his reverie, Aziraphale realized he had lowered his book and had been staring into space with who-knows-what expression on his face, and gone and worried his beloved. He shook his head slightly, smiling, and took a breath.

“Nothing is wrong, my dear. I’m just… I’m feeling very grateful that you’re here with me.”

Crowley’s face softened, his body becoming impossibly looser. His head tilted to the side, he shook his head, opening his mouth to speak, and realized his words were stuck in his throat. His body moved back toward the couch. “Come here,” he murmured, even though he was the one doing the coming. He nestled on his knees and drew Aziraphale into his chest, stroking his blond curls. He kissed him on the top of the head and tilted to gaze at his face. “Better?”

Aziraphale’s eyes had drifted closed, and they opened as he smiled up at him. “Yes, immeasurably.”

“Good. No more of that. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere, and I’m grateful too.” He rose and resumed pacing.

Aziraphale bookmarked and closed his book, gazing at Crowley curiously. “And what about you, dear? Everything all right?” 

Crowley glanced over his shoulder with a half smile. “Oh, fine. Fine. Can’t complain about a thing.”

Amusement edged into Aziraphale’s gaze. “You’re bored.”

“Well, _yes_; there’s nothing to complain about!” Crowley wheeled around and threw himself on the couch next to him, his legs straight out, his arms limp at his sides. 

Aziraphale gently lifted Crowley’s wrist, turning towards him. He glanced around the room sidelong, as if Gabriel might be hidden somewhere with a tape recorder. “What about!” he whispered excitedly, “Trying out your new fetters!”

Crowley’s expression didn’t change, but after a moment he glanced back. “You’re finally ready, angel?” 

His angel sputtered a bit. “Ready! Me? I’ve been waiting for _you_ to be ready!” He placed his hand on his chest incredulously.

Crowley half smirked and looked away. The only thing that intimated that he felt anything other than indifference was the spasmodic gulp of his adam’s apple. Aziraphale noticed but said nothing, waiting. Finally the demon sighed noisily and shrugged. “Yeah, OK.”

“Wonderful!” Aziraphale clapped his palms together and jumped to his feet, offering his hand.

Crowley placed his hand in his with a wry glance, rising slowly to his feet. “Don’t act so excited.”

“Oh, do stop.” Aziraphale swatted his arm. “I know you’re excited too. Well? Come along.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In Crowley’s bedroom, Aziraphale eyed the shackles speculatively. “I think it might be easiest,” he murmured, fingers at his chin, “if you undressed first.”

Crowley sighed, and stepped close enough to tower over him. “Angel. You have to order me.” 

“Oh, of course, I am sorry.” He paused, his finger to his lips. “On second thought, perhaps I will have you dress for me.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, quite. You would be quite fetching in a long, black, sheer gown. One that clings to your body, with lace trim. A deep v-neck and long sleeves. Nothing else. Oh! And your hair...long. Ringlets.” He smiled fondly, remembering his long curls and how they framed his face the day he met him, outside the Garden.

Amused and not a little aroused at learning how his angel wanted him, he suppressed a shiver and snapped his fingers.

There he was. All long sleek lines, red hair framing his face, and already beginning to tent the front of his dress. Aziraphale’s eyes widened and dilated, smoldering up and down his body, sucking his lower lip under his teeth. Crowley stood lithe and lanky, with his arms at his sides, hip cocked and one knee bent, contrapposto, his body one long fluid S.

“Look at you,” Aziraphale breathed. He stepped forward and trailed a finger from shoulder to shoulder, slowly across his collarbone, as he circled him, continually eyeing him up and down. Once behind him, he trailed his finger down the center of his back. Crowley shivered forcefully, but maintained his posture. Aziraphale lightly traced his fingers down his upper arms and stepped flush behind him, breathing into the hair at his neck. His fingers inched forward, lightly brushing across his chest, noting his nipples hardening already through the thin fabric. Crowley gasped, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. 

“You wanton creature.” Aziraphale stepped away and circled around to the front again. Crowley’s eyes slitted open, a glint of gold, his head still tipped back. His cheeks were heating to a gentle shade of pink. “We can’t ever have you leaving the house like that, can we? I’ll bet you want to.” Crowley was surprised by a jolt of desire that shot through him at the thought. He decided not to think too hard about it and instead grinned lasciviously down at his angel. “Oh, no, we can’t have that, can we?” Aziraphale snatched his wrist and buckled it into one manacle, then the other. 

Crowley caught his breath. “No, angel, only for you. Only for you,” he gasped as he felt them close around his wrists. 

Aziraphale held a hand flat up to his cheek, searching his eyes. “You remember your ‘safe word,’ yes? You promise to use it if you need to?” Crowley nodded. “Answer me, darling.” 

“Yes dear,” he drawled sardonically.

Satisfied, Aziraphale smiled and patted his cheek, then turned away and stopped. “Oh, what’s this then?” He hadn’t noticed the small black riding crop laying on the middle of the bed until now. He held it up and turned back to Crowley. “_Really?_”

Crowley smiled a little drunkenly. “Only if you’re comfortable with it, angel.”

Aziraphale locked in his gaze and stepped closer. “On your knees, then.” His voice was steel. Crowley almost collapsed with the urgency he felt to obey. His arms were shackled above his head now, and he gazed up at his angel with round eyes and parted lips. Aziraphale stood directly in front of him, gazing down quietly. He placed the crop under Crowley’s chin, lifting it even higher, smirking down at him. His thumb traced his lower lip, and the demon’s tongue crept out to run along the angel’s thumb. Then his left hand seized the back of Crowley’s hair, holding his head in place while he bent forward to kiss him, open mouthed and wet, his tongue licking and claiming. 

Crowley felt his thighs weaken as he grunted and moaned into Aziraphale’s mouth. His arms and wrists were beginning to burn as they bore more of his weight. Dizzy, he felt, as the flat of Aziraphale’s hand slid down his chest, his fingers creeping under the edge of his bodice. Their blunt tips caught on a nipple, and he pressed into it with his thumb. His gasping breaths quickened, and his cock pushed against the fabric of the dress, the silky material feeling rough on his oversensitive skin. He heard a whine pass his lips, and Aziraphale withdrew his mouth from his. 

“All right, back on your feet,” he said, and lightly flicked the crop against his side as Crowley remained where he was, trying to remember what words meant. “Are you _trying_ to be naughty?”

Crowley seemed to come to, looking back up into his angel’s bright eyes. “I don’t have to _try_ to be naughty; I just _am_.” He leaned back on his chains, to give the angel a better view of his erection beneath the sheer fabric. 

“Back. On. Your. Feet.” Aziraphale placed the crop under the tip of his penis and tilted it up a little, much the same as he did with his chin earlier. Crowley’s eyes widened and he lurched uncomfortably to standing. Aziraphale circled around behind him and gave his ass several sharp slaps with the crop, pleased at the way his demon’s body jolted and writhed. Then he lifted the back of the dress, baring pale cheeks with a few angry pink slashes. Kneeling down, he lightly ran his tongue along the welts, noticing the way Crowley squirmed and clenched his muscles, trying to sway away from him and then swaying back again eagerly, seeking sensation. He ran a thumb across one cheek and then gave it a nice bite, as if it were an apple. Not too hard… he didn’t want to break skin. But still, his demon yowled and jerked forward. He grabbed his thighs to steady him, and paused. “All right, love?”

Crowley grunted and moaned, rolling his head. “Yes, darling. Do that again.”

Aziraphale smiled and flushed with pleasure, eyeing Crowley’s bottom much the same as he would have eyed a fully laden dessert tray. “Happily.” And he bit down on the other side, lingering a little to press down with his tongue. His hands grasped Crowley’s hips tightly, as they began bucking rather wildly, and he bit down a little harder. 

“HHNNNGGHhhh! Oh fuck! Angel!” he cried, grasping the chains that connected to his manacles and hanging on. His legs were giving out again. Aziraphale softened his mouth and began placing soft wet kisses across his cheeks, and paused in the middle to lick a stripe up his cleft. Crowley was shivering and calling out, while he felt his tender hole breached by his angel’s tongue. “Oh god,” he gasped, letting his head hang and his eyes squeeze closed. He bit his lip and breathed through Aziraphale’s explorations, his cock throbbing and leaking, staining the front of his dress. Occasionally a spike of sensation would pulse through him like lightning, making him jerk forward, and Aziraphale would calmly pull him back and continue licking into him. “Angel. Angel,” he breathed. “Please, just…” He cried out again as Aziraphale answered him with a sharp nip. “Fuck me. Fuck me, please fuck me…” 

Still holding his hips, Aziraphale sat back on his heels and then leaned around to peer up at Crowley’s face. His loose ringlets were damp with sweat and sticking to his neck, his eyes were half closed, and he looked terribly wrecked. “Oh?” he said. “And why should I do that?”

Unceremoniously, he popped a finger into his opening and rubbed, Crowley shouting a string of obscenities in response. He was wheezing now, rocking back into his angel’s hand and thrusting into the air simultaneously. “Because… because. I need you. I need it. Please give it to me, angel. I need it so badly. Only you can, only you, please, you’re my only one.”

In response, Aziraphale rose to his feet, sliding his hands up the backs of Crowley’s bare thighs, pulling the dress up around his waist. Crowley could hear the sound of a zipper opening, and suddenly, Aziraphale’s hands wrapped around his thighs and lifted him off the ground. Crowley shouted in surprise and almost forgot to magic himself open before he felt the blunt heat of his angel’s prick sliding into his ass. His legs, bent, dangled in the air in front of him.

“Angel, fuck, what are you doing, oh fuck…” 

Aziraphale staggered a bit under his weight, but angels are strong, and Crowley was light. “All right, darling?” 

“Oh, god, yes,” Crowley frowned and held onto his chains as Aziraphale gripped his thighs tighter and started lifting him, then began bouncing him up and down on his cock, using Crowley’s body to fuck himself. His mouth fell open and his eyes were wide, teeth snapping together with the impact, and spikes of pleasure were stabbing up into him as his prostate was nailed unerringly. He head fell back and he keened, vaguely aware of Aziraphale’s frantic gasps underneath his body. He still wasn’t sure how exactly this was happening, but an orgasm built and built and he found he didn’t care, he didn’t know, all he knew was that he was coming, he was an explosion of pure pleasure, he was destroyed. His angel might have just as well as ejaculated holy water into him for all that he felt like he was on fire and burning alive. 

Dimly he was aware of Aziraphale’s answering cries of pleasure, the manacles snapping off, and being dropped on his bed. “Darling, my darling, my dearest one,” his angel was breathing, laying on him, stroking the damp hair out of his face, smearing streaks of tears. “Please tell me you’re all right.” 

Crowley moaned and tried to shift, but Aziraphale was heavy on him and he couldn’t move. He turned his face toward the beloved voice and his mouth curved into a very pleased half smile.

“Darling,” Aziraphale breathed again, then held his breath. “Talk to me, please.” He peppered his cheeks with kisses, his neck, his chin, his lips, his eyelids. Crowley’s smile grew and he toyed with the idea of playing dead just so Aziraphale would keep kissing him. But no… he wasn’t _that _cruel.

He let his eyes open, heavy lidded, and he gazed down at his angel, who was staring back at him earnestly. The expression on his face nearly undid him, and a swell of energy made him raise his arms to cup his face. 

“You. Were. Fantastic. I don’t deserve you.” 

Aziraphale’s answering smile faltered. “Stop that. You’re not to say that. It’s not true. Everything we learned about ‘deserving’ we learned from God, and, well…” After a moment of flustered blinking, he finally burst out, “God is just wrong. Ab-about that.” 

“Angel,” Crowley murmured, and pulled him in to his chest, then wrapping his legs about him as an afterthought.

“Oh heavens,” Aziraphale squeaked as he nestled in. “If you keep holding me like this, I’m going to want another go.” 

Crowley’s face cracked into an open, beautiful smile, and he laughed. “Positively degenerate, you are.”

Aziraphale’s head popped up, and peering intently into his face, he said triumphantly, “Quite so; and I may need to be punished for it!” 

Crowley brushed his fingers across his angel’s cheekbones. “You’re making the same face you do when you see crepes.” 

Aziraphale chuckled and laid his head back down on Crowley’s chest, tracing through his hair with his fingers. “You’re even better than crepes.” 

“High praise indeed.”

Aziraphale smiled and let his eyes fall closed. “Indeed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed. :) Click through the next two chapters to see my drawings of Crowley with, and without, his dress. ;)


	4. Art: Crowley in the dress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, I finally made artwork of Crowley in the black dress from chapter 3! 
> 
> Comment if you'd like me to add a version of this withOUT the dress...... :)


	5. Art: Crowley without the dress...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is Crowley without the dress. This was so much fun to draw. The best way to spend Labor Day (US) for sure. I didn't mean to make his hair pink though. It just kind of happened. O_o
> 
> <s>Also, I uploaded these to tumblr and forgot that they may get removed at some point. If that happens, and there is a broken link here, please notify me and I will find another place to upload it, and I'll fix the link.</s>
> 
> In case you're curious, my tumblr is ilovemyshit. It's kind of an everything blog.
> 
> _Edit:_ Yeah, it was removed from tumblr after a day, LOL


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